


The Surprise

by Cordelia69



Series: Love above all else [5]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7031944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordelia69/pseuds/Cordelia69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”</p><p>Season 3 Spoilers. Slightly AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cmorgana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmorgana/gifts).



Aramis leans against the chair  behind his desk . The last counselor just left and he feels drained. He doesn't know how his predecessor could do that all day, every day. He doesn't even know when was the last time he ventured outside. Yesterday? Two days ago?

He exhales loudly, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He stands up with some difficult, stretching his back once he's upright. He looks out of the window, trying to see what time of the day it is.

It's pitch black outside. Perfect. He groans, leaving the office and heading to his room.

“Minister,” Dujon, one of the royal guard standing outside his rooms, greets him.

“Dujon. It's late, why don't you retire? I can handle without guards hovering over me for a night. I was a musketeer, if you remember. I can protect myself,” he says, smiling at the tired guard.

“Are you sure, Minister?” Dujon asks. He knows very well that the First Minister was a musketeer but the Queen’s orders are for someone to stay with him every moment of the day. And night.

“Yes, Dujon. Don't worry about the Queen. I'll deal with her tomorrow morning. Now go before I find something terrible to you to do,” he states, smiling.

“As you wish, Minister,” the guard bows, leaving Aramis alone.

As soon as he is inside he knows that there's something off. He's not used to wearing his sword or his main gauche inside the Palace, but he leaves a dagger near the door of his room in case he needs it.

He takes it, scanning the room in search of some kind of foe. He catches a glimpse of fabric near the door of his bedroom and when he looks closely he sees that it's a boot. Followed by another a few step ahead. And a pair of leather pants he knows too well. And a doublet. With forget me nots on it. The last item is a black shirt. This trail of scattered clothes leads him to his unmade bed.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” he asks to the occupant of the bed.

“Is there a reason I can't wait for my lover, naked in his bed?” Athos replies. He's propped up on his elbow, the blanket covering barely his waist.

“Yes. Someone could discover you,” he hisses, placing the dagger on the nightstand.

Athos only points to a wall behind him.

“That is only for emergencies,” Aramis scolds him.

“This is an emergency. I didn't see you in two days,” Athos complains.

“I was working. I have a peace treaty to draw up,” he says.

“I know. I want them back home too.” The playful look on Athos' face is replaced with one full of worry.

“And I need it ready as soon as possible,” Aramis whispers, running a hand in his hair in a frustrated way.

“But you can't wear yourself  out like this. You need to be rested, and crouching at the desk for two days straight, tiring your eyes and mind like this is the opposite of refreshed. So please, come to bed and don't think about politics until tomorrow morning,” Athos explains, sitting on the bed with the blanket dangerously low.

“But they...” Aramis tries to protest.

“They are well, I assure you. Constance received a letter this morning in which D'Artagnan said that they're tired and missing Paris but they're alive. So please, don't try to find another excuse and come to bed.” Athos places a hand on Aramis' arm, sliding it until he can grasp the Minister's one.

Aramis smiles and lets himself be carried to the bed. Athos takes off his clothes slowly, leaving them in a bundle on the floor. Then, when Aramis has only his smallclothes on, he takes his face in his hands, kissing him. It's the first kiss in more than two days and the last traces of tiredness leaves Aramis. He answers the kiss, biting Athos' lower lip eliciting a small moan from the Captain. Without breaking the kiss, Aramis kneels on the bed, straddling Athos. His hands and mouth are everywhere, touching and kissing every bit of Athos' naked skin. He kisses a trail from Athos' neck to his navel stopping when he meets the blanket.

“What are you doing?” Athos' voice is rough and a little breathless.

“I'm admiring my work,” Aramis replies, smiling at him. “And, considering that you pointed out that I need to sleep, now I'm leaving you here, so I can go to sleep,” he continues, smirking.

“Aramis, please,” Athos pleads.

“Please what, love?” he says, leaning toward the Captain.

As a reply, Athos bucks his hips, letting him know why he doesn't want to end this.

“You waited two days, I think you can wait another one,” Aramis pushes away from him, laying down. Athos sits up instead.

“Are you serious? I crossed the Tuileries, ran to the Palace and sneaked through that cobwebby secret passage, to come here and make you a surprise and you leave me like this?” he complains, pointing at the bulge beneath the blanket.

Aramis looks at him, making a face like he's thinking and then he replies. “Yes”. He turns, with his back on Athos.

The Captain groans, watching his lover's back. He stays like that, sitting on the bed, painfully hard, trying to calm himself at least to lay down and sleep.

Then he hears Aramis turn. “Are you mad at me?” he asks.

“Of course not, 'Mis. It's only that I missed you and I really sneaked here. No one saw me,” Athos answers, still looking ahead. He runs a hand in his hair, sighing.

“I'm sorry,” he says. He takes the hand on the blanket, pulling Athos toward him. The Captain turns, laying on Aramis. “How can I be forgiven?” the Minister asks smiling at him. 

Athos bucks again against him. “I have an idea,” he whispers, kissing Aramis who laughs in it. Blanket completely forgotten the only thing between them is the fabric of Aramis smallclothes. Athos, reluctantly, ends the kiss, kneeling on the bed. He smiles at his lover sprawled on the bed, quickly unfastening the smalls. When the last piece of clothes is on the floor, Athos starts kissing Aramis again.

They kiss and touch, rediscovering each other. Athos kisses on repeatedly a point between the neck and the shoulder, turning the spot into a hickey when he starts sucking. Aramis moans and bites the wrist he has in front of him.

“No visible points,” Athos growls focusing again on the hickey. Aramis grins, letting his hands roam on Athos' body.

“I need you,” he says, stilling Athos' hips.

“You want me,” Athos corrects him, grinding against Aramis.

“Please,” Aramis moans, this time gripping painfully the skin.

“Please what, love?” Athos repeats the Minister early words.

“I want you.” Aramis bucks up, while Athos smiles.

“I don't think you'll be able to wait until I prepare you,” the Captain says, kissing him.

“Athos, please,” Aramis moans against his lips. He wants his lover so badly that, if he doesn't know it will be painful without a proper preparation, Athos would be already inside of him.

Athos has his mouth on his neck again, kissing and biting painfully, the hand not holding him up already on Aramis.

It takes him moments to bring Aramis over the edge. Aramis cries out, taking Athos' face in his own and crashing his lips against his lover mouth.

Athos grinds and ruts, until he comes with a soft cry then he slips away from him.

They lay next to each other, catching their breaths. Athos rolls on the bed, taking something from the floor. Aramis open his mouth to asks him what he's doing, when he sees that Athos has a wet cloth in his hand.

Athos proceeds to clean Aramis and himself, throwing the cloth over the side of the bed once he's finished.

“You thought of everything,” Aramis exclaims when Athos is again at his side.

“I had some free time. One or two hours before you came here, so I prepared the surprise,” he tells him, smirking.

Aramis kisses him softly, curling in his arms. Athos hugs him, leaving small kisses on his lover head.

He's already with his eyes closed when Aramis speaks again.

“Where is she?” he whispers against his chest. Athos doesn't need to know who Aramis is talking about. They search each other when they're away from the other.

“She's with Constance. I think, taking care of Emma will make her change her mind about having children,” he confess him.

“Good, but I want that our daughter know who her parents are,” he states, closing his eyes.

“Of course she knows. In these two days she bothered me, because she wants to know when her daddy will be home,” Athos replies.

“I miss her too,” Aramis says, still with his head buried against Athos.

“I know,” the Captain murmurs, knowing exactly what the little girl will do the next day.

“Athos?” Aramis calls him, more asleep than awake.

“Yes, darling?” he whispers closing his eyes.

“I love you.” Aramis sleepy voice arrives muffled to him.

“I love you too.” And they finally fell asleep.

  
  



End file.
